ie, and said so,
publicly--adding, however, that she was merely pretty, good-natured, and
lucky. This cut like a knife. The "Herald," getting up an entertainment
for the benefit of its free ice fund, did her the honour to beg her to
appear along with celebrities for nothing. She was visited by a young
author, who had a play which he thought she could produce. Alas, she
could not judge. It hurt her to think it. Then she found she must put
her money in the bank for safety, and so moving, finally reached the
place where it struck her that the door to life's perfect enjoyment was
not open.

Gradually she began to think it was because it was summer. Nothing was
going on much save such entertainments as the one in which she was the
star. Fifth Avenue was boarded up where the rich had deserted their
mansions. Madison Avenue was little better. Broadway was full of loafing
thespians in search of next season's engagements. The whole city was
quiet and her nights were taken up with her work. Hence the feeling that
there was little to do.

"I don't know," she said to Lola one day, sitting at one of the windows
which looked down into Broadway, "I get lonely; don't you?"

"No," said Lola, "not very often. You won't go anywhere. That's what's
the matter with you."

"Where can I go?"

"Why, there're lots of places," returned Lola, who was thinking of her
own lightsome tourneys with the gay youths. "You won't go with anybody."

"I don't want to go with these people who write to me. I know what kind
they are."

"You oughtn't to be lonely," said Lola, thinking of Carrie's success.
"There're lots would give their ears to be in your shoes."

Carrie looked out again at the passing crowd.

"I don't know," she said.

Unconsciously her idle hands were beginning to weary.

Chapter XLV. CURIOUS SHIFTS OF THE POOR

The gloomy Hurstwood, sitting in his cheap hotel, where he had taken
refuge with seventy dollars--the price of his furniture--between him and
nothing, saw a hot summer out and a cool fall in, reading. He was not
wholly indifferent to the fact that his money was slipping away. As
fifty cents after fifty cents were paid out for a day's lodging he
became uneasy, and finally took a cheaper room--thirty-five cents a
day--to make his money last longer. Frequently he saw notices of Carrie.
Her picture was in the "World" once or twice, and an old "Herald" he
found in a chair informed him that she had recently appeared with